


To Be Loved and To Be In Love

by moments



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Songfic, buy four on itunes, this makes me so fucking emo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-18
Updated: 2014-11-18
Packaged: 2018-02-26 02:49:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2635220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moments/pseuds/moments
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis presses his forehead against Harry's and smiles. "I love you." </p><p>"Since you were 18, if I recall correctly."</p><p>"Since I was 18," Louis confirms, "and forever onward."</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Be Loved and To Be In Love

**Author's Note:**

> WOW. I don't really know where this came from, I just love 18 a lot a lot a lot.
> 
> I highly recommend putting the song on repeat while reading this just since that's what I did while writing it but, y'know you don't have to. Also buy FOUR on itunes.
> 
> (I wrote this so quickly all mistakes are completely mine.)

_I got a heart, and I got a soul._

Harry's stopped searching for words when it comes to Louis. He thinks maybe some people were created so beautifully, so unreal, they're not meant to be described.

Louis' asleep, fringe tossed messily over his face against the pillow, chest slowly lifting up and down. There's a dim light shining on the right side of the room, shadows illuminating his sleeping body. The covers are rumpled on Harry's side as he stands watching from the doorway. His heart beats a little more quickly every moment he stares.

_Believe I will use them both._

It's been over four years already. In the great scheme of things, Harry knows that's barely anything, but to him, they're the years covered in light and gold.

Four years since he took one look at the boy in front of him, and fell in complete awe. Right from the start they could sit there for hours, sharing a couch, or bed, or corner of the room, and just breathe in comfortable silence, enjoying the presence of each other.

There was some sort of open wound in Harry's chest that began to patch itself up during x-factor. All of a sudden, the emotion that came with not having a father figure, not having made it through as a solo artist, even the crashing realization that  _I don't like girls_  became so blindingly small compared to the way he felt around Louis.

It was the beginning moments that Harry knew: if people could fly, he would've been sky high.

_We made a start, be it a false one I know._

It was tricky at first; all good things are.

There were behind the scenes videos to film, and long nights spent putting the finishing touches on songs; there were nights where Louis would spread Harry out on one of their bunks as quietly as possible and spend hours kissing down every inch of his skin. Harry couldn't get enough of those nights.

He was only sixteen (Louis wouldn't stop reminding him), but he'd never been so sure of anything in his life.

When Harry had whispered a quiet, "what are we?" against Louis' mouth one night, he'd never felt smaller.

Louis had hesitated for a moment, pulled back slightly, and looked into Harry's eyes. "Boyfriends, if you want."

Harry had only grinned, reaching up to kiss the life out of him.

_Baby I don't want to feel alone._

It was devastating to lose x-factor. They'd come to win, expected to win, and had lost; yet somehow, the sound of Zayn's voice through the microphone saying, "this isn't the last of One Direction," had never echoed in Harry's ears louder.

He knew it was true. Regardless of how untrue everything felt, he knew things were just starting for them.

When he'd finally found a moment to stop crying, he'd scanned the room, eyes landing on where Louis had his arms wrapped around his sisters. He watched for a moment, knowing he had his own phone calls to make, but when Louis finally untangled himself, he'd caught Harry's eyes with his own and smiled his Harry smile. Harry had burst out laughing, wondering when he got so stupid as to cry over the nonexistent idea of an ending, and ran across the room, jumping into Louis' arms.

Zayn, Liam, and Niall had joined them just as quickly, tangling all their arms together in a huge five-person hug, laughing through their tears and holding each other that much closer.

"I know you meant it," Harry told Zayn, "what you said up there. About it only being the beginning for us."

Zayn hummed in agreement, and Niall said, "us lads are family now."

"'Cept me and Louis," Harry said, "cause that would just be weird."

They all laughed, mood successfully lifted, and Harry could no longer feel that heavy weight over his chest from earlier. He was too busy watching the boys he was ready to take over the world with, and the boy he was ready to spend the rest of his life with.

_So kiss me where I lay down, my hands pressed to your cheeks._

The decision to move in together had been almost unspoken. It was the proper next step; they'd been together months and could hardly last three days apart. That's why when Louis had casually brought up the prospect of "hey, let's get a flat in London," Harry hadn't thought twice before saying yes.

It was a quaint little place, one bedroom, kitchen, bathroom. It didn't matter how spacious or cramped it was, because it was  _theirs_. They'd gotten the okay from Modest! right after the last signature on their contract had been signed (which, holy  _fuck_ , they had a record deal), and had moved in nearly the next day. There were shelves for Harry's records, a closet for the entirety of Louis' shoe collection, and traces of them in every corner.

And now, four years later, it's the same flat with the doorway Harry's currently standing in, watching the soft rise and fall of Louis' chest.

_A long way from the playground._

Louis shifts slightly and mumbles something laced with sleep, stretching his arms toward Harry's side of the bed and blinking awake when he finds it empty.He searches the room, eyes finally landing on Harry as he gives him a soft smile before falling back against the pillow.

"What're you doing all the way over there?" Louis asks, voice rough.

"Watching you."

"What for?"

Harry smiles, uncrossing his arms. "Because you're beautiful."

 _I have loved you since we were 18_.

There were times, years ago, when Harry thought maybe it wasn't mutual. He was sixteen, still doe-eyed and clumsy, and suddenly there was this larger than life boy invading his personal thoughts and ridding him of any boundaries he thought he had.

He thinks he probably knew from the very first moment, regardless of what he labeled it as in his head. It was something of an infatuation, maybe, but the way he looked at Louis, the way he still looks at Louis, he'll never look at someone else like that.  _  
_

_Long before we both thought the same thing._

Harry said the words a week after they moved in. It was early morning, the whole room was bathed in light, and Harry couldn't find anywhere he'd rather have been.

Louis was still asleep, legs tangled with Harry's own, lips parted slightly. He'd brushed Louis' hair aside and nosed at his cheek until he woke up, yawning and loosely wrapping a hand around Harry's waist.

After months of searching for the right words and never coming up with anything, it hit Harry square in the chest, and he suddenly found the words dangling off his tongue, ready to fall. It wasn't just an infatuation, it wasn't just longing and awe, it was  _that word._  That word his mum had always told him not to mess with blindly.

"I love you," Harry had said simply, letting the words out on a single breath, watching them hang in the air.

Louis hadn't said anything, he'd just smiled a smile Harry hadn't seen yet, and leaned forward to press their lips together.

_To be loved and to be in love._

"I love you present tense," Louis says from where his head is still against the pillow. Harry can't see his eyes from his standing position, but he's memorized what they look like every time Louis says the words.

"I love you t-"

"No. Let me- can I just," Louis pauses, taking a breath, "I love you present tense and past tense and every tense in between, and I think that's a lot for me sometimes, yeah? I don't know where this is coming from but I love you, I do, and I think I just don't know how to say it sometimes, but. I'm so in love with you, even when you give me your creepy love stare while I sleep."

Harry pauses, unsure, and then bursts out laughing because, god, he's in love with an absolute idiot.

"I love you," Harry says, "every tense imaginable."

And that's enough. Because Louis tends to be the rambler and Harry's gotten more steady with his words after years of media training and Louis' willingness to always listen, and it works for them.

_All I can do is say that these arms were made for holding you._

"C'mere," Louis says, sitting up against the pillow and opening his arms.

Harry doesn't hesitate, just crosses the room and collapses into him. They fit together so easily, Louis' hands tangled in Harry's hair and Harry lightly tracing the milky skin at his hips. He thinks the universe always had a plan for them; that they would have ended up like this regardless of how it had to happen.

"Do you believe in fate?" Harry asks quietly.

"Not until four years ago."

Harry smiles at the ceiling from where his head is rested on Louis' chest, wondering who allowed him the reality of finding someone made so perfectly synonymous.

"Me too."

_I wanna love like you made me feel when we were 18._

There's no way to turn back time, Harry knows that. There's no way to return to the safety of the x-factor house and the quiet that hardly seemed there to begin with before things blew up for them. He knows they're never going to have eternally quiet moments ever again, but, god, what he would give for just another day of all that.

"D'you remember that first time you told me you loved me?" Louis asks.

Harry hums. "'Course. You didn't say anything, just kissed me. Worried myself sick over it until you came running into the bathroom hours later to tell me when I was in the shower."

Louis groans. "And you slipped on the bath tile and nearly died."

"We were so stupid," Harry says, giggling.

_We took a chance; god knows we try._

They're still stupid. And young, though slightly older, and reckless, and probably irresponsible. It all remains a work in progress.

_Yet all along I knew we'd be fine._

The room stays quiet a few heartbeats longer before Harry lifts his head and turns to face Louis.

"Let's dance!" he says excitedly, eyes glowing.

Louis furrows his eyebrows. "There's no music."

"We don't need music," Harry says, rolling off the bed and tugging Louis up by the arm. "And you can always just sing to me if we do."

Louis gives him a quizzical look before throwing the covers off and scooping Harry up in his arms. "I'll sweep you off your feet like never before, Styles."

_So pour me a drink, oh love; let's split the night wide open._

"You know, this would be proper romantic if we had a bottle of wine and maybe some candles," Harry says, following Louis' 1-2-3 1-2-3 lead.

"Candles. We're dancing in our bedroom to the beat of non-existent music, and you're talking to me about candles." Louis pretends to scoff, offering an arm for Harry to spin under.

"I think there's a bottle of w-"

Louis kisses him, effectively shutting Harry and all of his nonsense perfectionism up.

_And we'll see everything we can living love in slow motion._

The room is a blur of color and light and everything but Louis, who seems almost frozen in time in front of Harry's eyes. They're still dancing, Harry's hand on Louis' shoulder and Louis' wrapped around his waist. He considers asking where Louis learned to waltz, but concentrating on their other set of clasped hands seems to weigh in his favor.

Harry's not sure there's anything that can compare to moments like these, moments where his senses are alight and Louis looks completely ethereal in front of him. They don't have many chances to slow down, but now, the whole world seems to have stopped spinning. Everything moves like liquid gold, slow and steady.

_So kiss me where I lay down my hands pressed to your cheeks._

Louis kisses him. Or maybe it's Harry that kisses Louis. All he's aware of is the way Louis' lips feel pressed against his own, foreign yet warm and more like home than anything Harry's ever known, even after all these years.

_A long way from the playground._

"Do you ever think we could do it?" Harry asks once they've slowed to a gentle sway.

"Do what?"

"Come out."

Louis almost stops moving, then twirls Harry under his arm so quickly he almost falls over. "One day I'll kiss you on the streets of London in broad daylight without a care in the world."

Harry puts his hand back on Louis' shoulder. "I'll take you out to dinner and we can sit at a table by the window instead of at the back."

"And I'll shout to the whole world that I love you from the middle of the London Bridge. It's gonna be great."

Harry grins. "We're pretty great."

_I have loved you since we were 18._

Louis presses his forehead against Harry's and smiles. "I love you."

"Since you were 18, if I recall correctly."

"Since I was 18," Louis confirms, "and forever onward."

_Long before we both thought the same thing._

They've had so many disputes over it that he's stopped keeping count.

Harry will come home late one night (or morning) and find Louis on the couch, laptop resting atop his thighs, eyebrows caved in. It's happened enough times that Harry doesn't try to pull him out of it anymore. He knows how discouraging it must be, to watch the person you love be linked to woman after woman; he knows because he's watched Louis do it with Eleanor for two years now.

He doesn't ever bring it up, though. They've got some sort of unspoken agreement that when it's the two of them together, it's just the two of them.

"One day," Harry says.

It's so simple, the two little words hanging in the air, dangling by a rope strong built to last. One day they'll find a way. They can't stay tied down forever, won't stay rooted to the insufferable measures they've been forced through since signing that contract.

Harry thinks S.E. Hinton got it wrong when she wrote that  _nothing gold can stay._  He thinks sometimes maybe people get lucky enough to live in gold and silver for their allotment of forever. Right now, with Louis' hands clasped in his own, Harry thinks they might be the lucky ones.

_To be loved and to be in love._

Louis' it for him. They're it for _each other_ , and as scary as the validity of that statement may be, Harry's never been less afraid.

He soars around Louis, higher than he's ever flown before. He has unspeakable gratitude to whoever came up with the concept of Love, and even more of it for the unearthly powers of the universe.

_All I can do is say that these arms were made for holding you._

Harry stops them suddenly and places his hands on Louis' waist to steady him. Louis' eyes hold confusion for a moment, until Harry wraps his arms around Louis' neck, closing his eyes and breathing in his scent. Louis responds instantly, clutching even more tightly and refusing to let go when Harry starts to pull back.

 _I wanna love like you made me feel_  

"You and I forever, yeah?" Louis asks, lifting his left hand and placing his palm against Harry's.

"You and I forever," Harry echoes, certainty ringing in both of their ears.

They don't need marriage proposals or engagement rings or fields full of flowers. They've got enough love between them to last lifetimes and beyond.

It's them against the world, always has been, always will be. That's enough for now.

w _hen we were 18._

**Author's Note:**

> talk to me on twitter @disasterstyles :,


End file.
